A Year Later.
...
I stabbed the food in front of me with the pair of chopsticks, rolling a piece of chicken in the ever-present dashi broth before bringing it to my mouth. The morsel hit my palate, and for a moment, the world outside my bowl ceased to exist. The texture of the meat, tender and silky, embraced the other ingredients like a comforting cocoon.
Reality returned slowly to my perception like an encroaching tide. Exhaling, the delicate scent of soy and simmered chicken exited my lungs like puffs of exhaust, their passage tingling my nostrils as they rushed past. Warm steam curled upwards from my bowl towards the ceiling and the clinking noise of steel chopsticks on porcelain bowls reached my ears as I settled my utensil to savour the sensation in my mouth.
Pleasant.
Toriiya Izakaya had recently, to my self-centred displeasure, begun to see an increase in customers. Months ago, when I initially began frequenting the restaurant, I did so not because of the food but for its serene ambience and the lack of crowds. Today, however, hushed murmurs roiled through the room and that peaceful tranquillity I had come to appreciate was nowhere to be found. My gaze momentarily flickered towards the other patrons. A Jonin and his team of apprentice journeymen shinobi sat at the neighbouring table, the genins arguing over the specifics of some D-rank mission they had just completed while their mentor watched impassively. Further ahead to my right sat an older couple chuckling as they conversed softly over a shared bowl of Oyakodon.
Despite the crowd, the ambience was still mostly tame. Well, except for the gaggle of year-three boys in the corner hunched over a magazine, tittering non-stop. Regardless, the mood remained homely—calming—and surprisingly, I found myself in an increasingly good mood.
Watching everyone do their own thing gave the shop a vibrance I never knew it could have. It was tolerable, I decided, despite my usual aversion to crowds.
Absentmindedly, I ate another morsel, taking some childish pleasure in the way the delicate flesh squished in my mouth. Lifting the bowl, I took a sip of the broth, the fragrant soup warming my chest as it slid down my throat.
Five minutes later, I hopped off my seat, digging through my schoolbag for Ryō to pay for my meal before quietly leaving.
It was an uneventful trek back home. The mid-autumn sun had slowly begun to set, crimson light spilling over the lips of rooftops. The leaves on the trees had begun their metamorphosis; vibrant hues of red, orange, and gold spread throughout the village. The towering trees surrounding Konohagakure toed the incorporeal divide of the seasons, their canopies a kaleidoscope of colours, creating a stunning backdrop against the clear blue sky. The streets were carpeted with fallen leaves, crackling softly underfoot with each step I took.
I slinked past towering adults, taking in the sights as I trekked home. For a few minutes, a trinket vendor managed to distract me but I managed to break free short of just a few coins. It took another five minutes before I finally reached my clan's district.
Tucked away as we were from the heart of the village the paths here were visibly less trodden. Unless you were a Uchiha, most had no reason to come out this far to the edge of the village. Ignoring the brazen monitoring facilities that towered at the fringes of the district, I greeted the shinobi standing guard in the shade of a young chestnut tree growing beside Akihiro-san's Takoyaki stall. A few meters away, Uruchi-Obasan stood outside her senbei shop sweeping while her husband helped her pack up.
I waved at the pair as I jogged past, greeting a few more familiar faces on my way in. I didn't enjoy the attention, but being the Patriarch's first son and heir did come with some expectations and responsibilities. Besides, the clansmen were mostly nice people so it would not hurt to begrudge them that little.
Turning down the bend of a street I finally came upon my house. I exhaled, relieved at the sight. The building was not the one I grew up in, but it was starting to grow on me. Slowing from a jog to a light walk, I pushed aside the oaken gate and stepped beyond the threshold into the compound.
Mother was outside, tending to some vegetables in the garden. Sasuke was outside as well, a large fluffy doll in his arms with which he played with where he sat on the engawa.
"I'm home!"
"Okaeri, Itachi," Mother intoned, looking up briefly with a smile. "How was school today?"
I shrugged, as I let my backpack slide off my shoulders before bending over to remove my sandals. "It was fine, Mother," I said, clambering up the engawa to pick up my giggling sibling. "We had a history test. I think I did well."
"Good to hear. Remember, keep striving for excellence. Your father would be proud."
"Is he home yet?" I asked.
Mikoto shook her head as she continued to tend the plants. "No, he had some urgent matters to attend to. But, he should be back soon. Why? You need something?"
"Yeah," I nodded, tickling the wriggling toddler in my grasp. "I need help learning a Lightning Release Jutsu, but I don't know which one to pick ... Ah, right! Also, I have, um, a letter from the academy I am supposed to hand over to him. Or you? I don't think my instructor specified which parent I was supposed to hand it over to."
Mikoto rose from her task, turning to stare disapprovingly in my direction. "Itachi..."
I winced. "...Yes, mother?"
She stared at me for a long moment before a tired sigh escaped her. "Where is it?" she asked.
With Sasuke still shrieking happily in my lap, I dug out a scroll from my backpack. Mother took it and unfurled it before rolling it back up and stuffing it in the basket that hung from the crook of her arm.
"...Am I in trouble?" I asked.
"Did you do anything wrong?" she replied, one brow rising curiously.
"No...?" I said hesitantly. Mother tapped my head with the scroll as she walked past, much to Sasuke's excited bemusement.
"We will talk when your father returns," she said as she made her way inside. I turned to face my brother.
"Well, isn't that ominous?"
"Omimos!" the toddler cooed in response.
A chuckle escaped me as I bent over to blow into his tummy. The child shrieked again, pulling my head away by the ears.
"You little troublemaker. Did you miss me today?"
"Ita! Ita!"
"All right, all right. I got you something," I said, reaching into my bag for the trinket I bought on my way back. It was a small, soft, colourful rattle in the shape of a ball. Some parts of it were ridged and bumpy while others were smooth, so it was easy to grip. I shook the ball, drawing Sasuke's attention to it.
"Ita!" the toddler announced as he reached for the toy. I laughed, handing it over to him.
"It's a rattle," I told him, watching as he held it up to his ear before shaking it, his eyes shining with amazement.
"Atle!"
...
Father arrived a few hours later.
The sun had already descended beneath the horizon when I finally heard the soft pitter-patter of his bare feet on the wooden floor. I laid Sasuke on his cot before walking out to greet him.
"Welcome home, Father."
"Thank you," he said, closing the shoji doors behind him.
"Welcome home," Mother said, walking up to help him with his flak jacket. I took it from her, quickly heading into their room to hang it up on a rack. By the time I returned, Father had already settled on his cushion at the table and had a steaming bowl of Donburi in front of him. Mother sat quietly by his side, so I joined them.
"How was today?" Father asked.
"It was fine," I replied. "We had a test."
He nodded. "Your mother said the school sent a letter?"
"They did. I am not aware what the contents are, though, so I can't say for sure why."
Fugaku glanced at Mikoto.
"His homeroom teacher suggested an early graduation. The Hokage is in support; he is waiting for our approval to give the go-ahead."
Father turned his gaze back to me, apparently unsurprised by the development. "What do you think?" he asked.
I paused, hesitant, despite having made up my mind on the matter long ago. "I think I should wait one more year, Father," I finally said. "The current status quo affords me more time to train under your tutelage. I would prefer that to any Jonin-sensei the village might assume to be a suitable replacement."
Fugaku's expression didn't change, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes as he nodded. "Very well," he said. "I will visit the Hokage personally tomorrow regarding this matter. Your mother mentioned you also wanted to see me about learning a new Jutsu?"
"Yes, Father. I need to practise a higher-level technique to improve my mastery of Lightning Release. I feel very close to achieving a breakthrough."
Fugaku chewed on the thought for a moment before nodding. "After dinner then," he said.
"Thank you, Father."
...
A full moon hung over the forest, illuminating the giant lake that sat in the middle of our district.
"The heart of lightning is not something to be wielded lightly," Fugaku said as he prepared to display his mastery of Lightning Release. "Thunderbolt is not just a technique; it's a manifestation of focus, control, and power. Watch closely."
I did, calling upon my dojutsu.
Hand seals formed, and I watched Father's chakra churn. He struck his hands out, two blinding orbs forming in his palms, crackling as a high discharge of electricity leapt from them toward a tree on the other side of the lake. The air that parted in the wake of the lightning bolts snapped back into place with two thunderous claps. I squinted at the target on the other side of the lake. All that remained of it was a charred, smouldering stump.
...Shit! That was so cool!
"Do you want to attempt it?" Fugaku asked with a smile, most likely noticing my fidgeting hands. I nodded quickly, taking a stance.
He retrieved a kunai from his pouch, his arm swinging as it launched the weapon across the lake into the trunk of a tree in the distance.
"That one," he said, having marked my target.
I inhaled as I slowly began to form the hand signs, trying to get a feel for how my chakra flowed when performing the technique.
虎. 蛇. 虎. 鳥. 虎. 羊.
Tora. Hebi. Tora. Tori. Tora. Hitsuji.
I struck my arms out, straining against the sudden metaphysical weight of the technique on my chakra network. Two bolts of lightning erupted from my palms before veering off wildly from my intended target. One made it across the lake to strike a tree some three hundred meters to the right, while the other simply struck the body of water explosively. Before I could truly appreciate what I had done, I felt the ground slide away from under me as I slowly fell to my side at the sudden wave of exhaustion that overwhelmed me.
"You need to work on your aim," Fugaku drawled, catching me before laying me gently against a tree trunk. I managed a light chuckle. The hard, knobby bark felt oddly comfortable right then at that moment.
"You did good," Father said wistfully, ruffling my hair. "Not many men can brag that their six-year-old son managed to execute an A-rank jutsu on his first try. I truly am blessed."
A smile creased my face as the two of us fell silent so I could slowly gather my breath.
...
"Father," I whispered minutes later.
"Yes, son?"
I probably shouldn't say this, but this was a question that had been burning in my chest for a long while now. I needed to know.
"Why do our clansmen hate the rest of the village so much?" I asked, desiring to know his opinion on the matter.
To my surprise, Fugaku chuckled. "They don't hate the village, son," he said, to which I was immensely doubtful. "Most of them just want to get their old privileges back and be allowed to do missions again like any normal Shinobi instead of being wasted on a local, ineffective police force. Maybe not being constantly monitored with unending suspicion might be nice as well, but baby steps."
I hummed in agreement, but Fugaku quickly picked up on my uncertainty. "Our people are warriors," he said, elaborating. "We love adventure and the thrill of battle more than anything. I have seen it in you as well whenever you spar with that Shisui boy. Your eyes spark ablaze with excitement. You are an Uchiha; it's perfectly normal. Let the soft Sarutobis, the sissy Hyugas and the lazy Naras of this world give councils and hold records. We are the earthquake that shakes the world so new mountains are formed; The Fire that burns down the overgrown forests so that something new might sprout; The lightning in the storm that floods the land when needed. We are warriors. We are the living flame to Konoha's Will of Fire."
"We are the Uchiha."
I stared out at the full moon reflecting over the still lake. Something about the way he spoke resounded in me; it was at that moment I saw the passionate man behind Fugaku Uchiha's stoic facade.
"We are the Uchiha," I repeated.
It sounded nice.
I liked it.